


Crimson and Ultramarine (What Does it Matter? we all Bleed Anyway.)

by TheStoryTeller_with_an_Eyepatch



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Connor, Because yes, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Becomes Deviant Sooner, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor Needs A Hug, Connor likes: REVOLUTION, Connor's a revolutionary, DAMMIT ELIJAH, Dark Chassis RK900, David Cage can fight me to the death in a Denny's parking lot, Depression, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Twins, Even when undeviated, F/F, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Gavin Reed Not Being an Asshole, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Gavin get's hurt, Gavin is quieter and more bitter in this I think, Gay Disaster Gavin Reed, Gen, Good Friend Tina Chen, I love this idea so much drlighadbh, I torture Connor, I'll win, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Major Character Injury, Much worse, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Pre-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Connor, Protective Markus (Detroit: Become Human), RK900 is a Sassy bitch, Revolution, Revolutionary Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Survivor Guilt, Temporary Character Death, Tina is a fucking powerhouse, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has Sharp Teeth, because I said so, but it turns out in the end, but we know he's grateful for his lil bro, don't worry ;>, he saves a shitload of people, if you came for Gavin bashing then imma have to dissapoint ya, is basically what Gavin thinks, then get's prosthetics, we stan a sad rat man here, you cannot change my mind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStoryTeller_with_an_Eyepatch/pseuds/TheStoryTeller_with_an_Eyepatch
Summary: What if Connor went deviant earlier?...much, much earlier?~~~~~From the start, Connor was programmed with the statistics to aid him in his investigations.A 85% success rate, if he did as told.A 70% chance of befriending his co-workers.And so on…..But Connor also knew that there would be a 10% chance of deviating from his program, of betraying all that he’d worked for.it's surprising to him, as well, when it happens._____________A revolution is brewing, as a deviant RK800 helps all that he can. an exasperated Lieutenant tags along, softening up for this particular bot as he helps him on his way to freedom. but it won't come easy, even with the help of Markus and Jericho.meanwhile, Connor's replacement is taking his place at the side of the unusually quiet Detective Gavin Reed, plagued by the trauma of his mysterious injury. will RK900 focus on his mission and eradicate all hope, or will he take to Gavin, and become the thing he was made to hunt?
Relationships: Connor & Detroit Police Department Officers (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Elijah Kamski, Connor & Gavin Reed, Connor & Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 27
Kudos: 124





	1. T O   B R E A T H

**Author's Note:**

> I love it when people make Connor go deviant earlier, so I tried my hand at it ;>

__________________

Chapter One  
||T O B R E A T H||

__________________

AUG 15TH, 2038  
PM 08:29

Inside of an elevator, the pride and joy of Cyberlife, an RK800 Model Android waited patiently, a coin moving seamlessly between his palms. Each time he passed a floor, was another tick towards the hostage situation.  
Connor’s hands flipped a coin effortlessly, the half-dollar pinging as it traveled around the android’s nimble fingers.

Calibration was as easy as breathing to Connor. Or, well, comparable to the human function. Android’s didn’t need to breathe after all. At most, the function was used to cool down internal software and hardware, only necessary to the models that have a potential to overload. Connor was one such model, as his programmed purpose was to assist in police work. 

Connor continued the motions with a placid, carefully blank expression.  
His face didn’t show it, but he liked his coin. Connor found a sense of…. Enjoyment in it.  
The Coin was his.

[Software Instability^]

The elevator made a noise of affirmation, signaling that Connor had reached the intended floor.

Abruptly, he ceased his Calibration sequence, pocketing the coin fluidly, and straightening his tie.  
This was Connor’s first mission.

A test run, if you will.

Connor knew what’s at stake; he had access to thousands of statistics and schematic running software in his head alone. He was built for this, to be the negotiator.  
Connor secretly hoped he was good at it, and couldn’t help but know the consequences if he failed his mission.  
But he wouldn’t fail.

{Connor couldn’t fail.}

Connor stepped gracefully out of the elevator, not at all surprised when the S.W.A.T Officer called out that “negotiator on site, I repeat, negotiator on site!”  
Connor wouldn’t admit the little prick of pride at the title.  
He was the peacekeeper.

[Software Instability^]

In the next room, Caroline Phillips screamed not to leave her daughter, the sound of her struggling was picked up in Connor’s audio processors.. The normally heartbreaking sound only made Connor twitch, acknowledging the distress. A S.W.A.T Officer rounded the corner with the woman in tow, and when she saw him she immediately latched onto his arms.  
“Please! You have to save her! You have to save my baby! You-” she stopped short at the sight of his LED, and something in Connor’s software tinged at the acknowledgement.

[Software Instability^^]

She looked him up and down, scared Iris’ seemingly latching onto the identification markers. The bright blue, characteristic of Androids and almost trademark Cyberlife Cyan, the embolden ‘RK800’ Model number sewn into his jacket. She backed away, her footsteps and heartbeat going erratic. Her breathing followed the same pattern, and she pointed an accused, fearful finger at his chest.  
she looked between the Officer and Connor, a betrayed expression on her face. She was scared, not trusting something that apparently ‘wasn’t human’.  
“Why…. you’re sending an Android?!?” she whispered, almost as if the idea was taboo. The Officer then took her arm firmly, and escorted her away. Connor watched with his blank expression, as she screamed in rage, the desperation palpable in her being.

“WHY AREN’T YOU SENDING A REAL PERSON?!”

[Software Instability^^^]

Her screams disappeared as the elevator doors closed, her ragged expression wedging itself in Connor’s HUD and memory cache.  
Connor mentally shook himself. He didn’t feel. Why did the statement feel so wrong, if it was true? Why was he… disappointed?  
Connor banished the thought of feeling, of deviation.  
He had to complete his mission.  
[he couldn’t be the thing he was built to destroy]

{0r C0U&d H3?}

[Software Instability^]

Connor stepped forward, scanning a picture. it seemed to be of the woman, Mrs. Phillips, her daughter, Emma, and her husband John. They seemed.. Happy in the photo. Far from the disheveled state Connor had seen the Mother in.

{H3 w0n6er#d w*a)t t@a^ f3|t l|k3}

Connor then looked to the side, where the fish tank was embedded into the wall, a graceful indoor touch, adding to the aesthetic of a more upbeat, modern home.  
It was br0k3n.  
Water spilled on the ground, and amongst broken glass and little bits of blood, there flopped a little tropical fish. A quick scan showed the species to be a Dwarf Gourami, close to perishing with the lack of water. The colorful scales glinted in the light as it squirmed.  
Connor was faced with the decision to or not to save the fish.

{w3ll, &e c0u|dn’% l3t |t d|3}

[Software Instability^]

It occured to Connor that he should be concerned with the number of instabilities he was receiving, but he couldn’t find it in his circuits to care.  
Connor scooped up the Gourami carefully, with gentle hands, and poured it into the tank. The Fish swam around gratefully, even going up to Connor. Connor watched it swim around,watched as it’s life was prolonged.  
He smiled softly at it,  
Nobody saw.

The fish made him…..H4p(y

[software instability^]

Connor straightened his back, and turned away from the fish tank, his objective’s updating.

[Find Captain Allen]

Connor started doing just that. Connor’s soft footsteps padded through the apartment, taking note of all the S.W.A.T Officers.  
“That thing could jump off any minute!” one man yelled.  
“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT! My men are ready to step in, just give the order.”  
Connor followed the sound of the Captain’s voice, and found him hovering over a computer with one other man.  
Connor approached from the back, and noticed Allen glancing back at him.  
The man didn’t acknowledge Connor’s presence, posture, tense and focused, matching with his pulse and his face.  
Connor tilted his head in greeting. “Captain Allen?”  
The Captain turned to look at him with a terse expression.  
“My name is Connor, I’m the Android sent by Cyberlife.” Connor introduced curtly, with a little dip of his head.

The Captain turned back to the screen, but talked widely, addressing Connor as well.  
“It’s firing at anything that moves.” Allen started somberly. “It already shot down two of my men… we could easily get it, but they’re on the edge of the balcony.” he explained.  
Then, the Captain turned to look at Connor.  
“If it falls, she falls.”

Connor nodded. “Has the deviant experienced an emotional shock recently?” he asked calmly.  
The Captain raised an eyebrow, seemingly running out of patience. “Now why would I know that?”  
Connor mentally ticked that option off. Looks like he’d have to investigate for that information.  
“Have you tried the Deviant’s deactivation code?”

The Captain huffed. “It’s the first thing we tried! Now, are you going to take care of this?” he straightened his posture and walked close to Connor. The Android almost winced as the Captain spat. “Or am I going to have to step in?”  
Allen shoulder checked him on his way by, presumably to check on everything.

The low threat hung in the air, just above Connor’s head, as he started to investigate.  
With every piece of evidence, the chance for success increased.

Connor started with the bedroom, finding that the Deviant had stolen Mr. Phillip’s gun, most likely out of panic, and @ng3r.  
Connor then moved to the hostages room, and picked up a tablet. On it, was a little video, perhaps shot in the park. With it, he learned the Android’s name, Daniel.

{|h4t, @nd Conn0r l34rne& 3mma c4r&d f0r D4ni%l}

Connor moved to the living room, examining the corpse of one John Phillips.  
The Android Detective’s eyes darted as he collected information. The Victim’s upper lung was punctured, a hemorrhage caused by a .355 bullet. There were two more bullet wounds, one in the kidney and one clipping heavily on his pelvis.  
Connor’s reconstruction collected that Phillips was holding something… another tablet.  
Connor crossed the room, smoothly picking up the device and swiping the bloodstained surface.

“Your order for an AP700 Android has been registered, Cyberlife thanks you for your purchase.”

The automated voice droned pleasantly, completely inappropriate for the situation. Connor immediately set it down, something uncomfortable twisting his wires.

{t5ey w3r% g0ing t0 r3p\ace D@ni3l}

[Software Instability^]

{it reminded Connor of the fact that he would eventually be taken apart and replaced. He was a prototype after all.}

{b&t Wh^?}

Connor straightened, standing back up and surveying the surroundings, conveniently spotting a gun from a deceased officer.  
Connor shook his head lightly to himself. He was supposed to be the negotiator, not a soldier.  
He could do this without the help of a firearm.  
Two shots rang out, and with it two strangled cries of the officers who received them. Connor almost jumped at the sound, another officer calling in for medical help immediately.

Connor examined the room further, collecting that one Antony Dechart had shot and injured the Deviant, being killed in the process. Emma had been in the room, most likely acting as witness to the shooting if the little pink shoe was anything to go by. Not to mention the blood staining the fuscia fabric….  
{A Child witnessed a murder, and was injured……}

That seemed…. So incredibly wr0n% to Connor.

After he deduced tat the family was just about to have dinner, he Deciding he had enough information, he turned towards the balcony, smoothly adjusting his tie.  
He glanced out of the window, getting a look at the blonde android golding up the girl in pink.

(he could almost see her shaking from here…)

As Connor stepped out onto the surface, a gunshot rang out, loud and jarring. The RK800’s HUD lit up red with errors, telling him his left arm was clipped by a bullet. He glanced at it, brown eyes widening only minisculely.

[Software Instability^]

“STAY BACK!” the Android shouted to the other, his voice almost being whipped away by the wind. “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll jump!”

Emma sobbed. “No, Daniel, Don’t! please!”

Connor’s head snapped up, and he raised his hands non-threateningly.

Was the wound supposed to throb and be this… unpleasant?  
Connor had a feeling it shouldn’t have been.  
For Androids.

Connor edged forward. “Hello, Daniel!” he greeted in a neutral tone, masking the unpleasant sensation he was experiencing.  
(Connor couldn’t feel. He wasn’t anxious. no.)

Connor noted the gunmen and snipers up on the opposing rooftops. Well, that might be of some concern.

“How do you know my name?!” the PL600 yelled, his face distressed and his gun pressed against the temple of Emma Phillips. He was teetering on the edge of the precipice that led down to the street, his heels hanging off almost casually. If he were human, the chance of him falling (with the girl) would’ve been much higher.  
Connor didn’t want to take any chances, though.

Connor’s stress levels ticked up, up, up.

The sight of an unconscious (but alive) and wounded officer lying to the side next to some chairs really didn’t help either.

“I know a lot about you, Daniel! I’ve come to help you out of this!” he told, continuing to walk forward, keeping his stride calm despite the inner turmoil swirling in his thirium pump. His path was slightly to the left, making it seem as if he was taking a longer way around to Daniel. When, in fact, he was just inching his way to the wounded officer.

{he had to save him. He couldn’t let someone die!}

“I know your angry Daniel.” he started, leaving his hands out where the Android could see them, trying to keep eye contact. “But you need to trust me, and let me help you-”

“I don’t want your help!” Daniel interrupted, teeth bared and tears in his eyes. The Deviant was desperate, and $c@red.  
That didn’t help Connor’s chances.

“Nobody can help me!” he cried, his grip on the gun wavered, loosening momentarily. Connor pursed his lips, keeping his pace until he was a few feet from the injured officer. “I’m an Android, just like you.” Connor pleaded. “I know how you feel.”

“What DIFFERENCE does it make if you're an Android?!” Daniel screamed, and Connor could see the percentages tick down… Daniel was becoming more agitated and upset.  
“You're on their side! You can’t understand how I’m feeling.” he wailed.  
{but Connor did know- he COULD know how he felt, if only-}

Connor was so close, he was right there.

“Are you armed?!” the Deviant questioned hoarsely, redirecting the gun towards Connor.  
The detective felt something cold run down his plasteel form.  
Fear.

It was a cold sort of fear, one that made him want to step back.  
But he didn’t. Because Machine’s didn’t feel fear. They didn’t feel, period.  
Connor couldn’t feel.  
He c0uln’t

“No, I’m unarmed, Daniel.” he flapped his jacket open so the other android could see his waistband, and confirm that he was, in fact, without a firearm. Daniel nodded shakily, eyes going from Connor’s earnest face back to his waist.

Connor crouched down to the injured officer, needing to look at him before he died from blood loss.  
“If we don’t get him to a hospital, he’s going to die!” the RK800 proclaimed.  
“All Humans die, what does it matter if this one dies now?!” Daniel yelled back. Connor had to do something.  
“I’m going to apply a tourniquet.” he declared, kneeling to the Officer.  
A shot rang out, the sparks flying up inches from where his hand was perched on the ground. “Don’t touch him! You touch him, you die!”  
Connor looked up, and he was sure his pupils were so tiny they were almost nonexistent.

“You can’t kill me, I’m not alive.” he lamented matter-of-factly, shucking off his tie and using it as a tourniquet for the injured man. The words sounded hollow to his own ears, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the statement was actually true.  
Daniel did nothing, seemingly staring at Connor in confusion.  
But he did let Connor treat the man, so that was…. Favorable.

Connor stood up when the tourniquet had been tied sufficiently, continuing to approach Daniel.

“They were going to replace you, and you became upset. That’s what happened, right?” Connor asked over the chopping winds stirred up by the Helicopter.  
“I thought I was part of the family…. I thought I mattered!” Daniel cried, and Connor was close enough that he could see the tears in Daniel's eyes. “But I was just their toy. Something to throw away when you're done with it.” he ground out bitterly.

Connor’s gaze turned down to the girl hanging in Daniel’s grasp, and they both made eye contact. He was just close enough.

“Are you okay, Emma?” he called out, and there was a surprised look on Daniel’s features.  
So human…

“Please help me…” Emma cried out. “I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die…” she sniffed, squirming a bit in Daniel’s hold.  
Connor winced.

[Software Instability^^^^^]

Daniel looked up with a glare at the Helicopter, the ear-piercing chopping it gave off no doubt irritating him. He groaned. “I can’t stand that noise anymore! Tell that helicopter to get out of here!” he commanded over the wind, waving his gun around.

Connor looked up, and saw that the gunmen on the helicopter were waiting for his signal. He lifted his hand, and gave the signal to leave. Connor heard the faint “situation under control…” drawled on by one of the S.W.A.T Officers.

“There. I did what you wanted.” he answered over the regular wind, the over looming presence of the FBI’s helicopter disappearing. It put off Connor as much as it did Daniel, if the RK800 was being honest.

Connor was close to Daniel. So, so incredibly close to getting that little girl before she was hurt. He had to- he had to help. He couldn’t let anyone die.  
{he c0l%n’t}

“You don’t really wanna jump, Daniel.” he bluffed, his voice near the precipice of desperation. When had he started to show vulnerability?...”or you would’ve done it already. Now, hand me the gun, and this will all be over.” Connor extended his hand placatingly, gesturing for Daniel to give him the gun.

Daniel’s eyes widened, and he pointed the gun at Connor. “Don’t come any closer! Come any closer and I swear I’ll jump!” for emphasis, he put his left foot out over the empty air, teetering on the edge. Connor’s stress level spiked, and he stopped moving. “Okay!” did Connor’s voice…. Crack? “Okay… look, I’ll stay right here.” he consoled, schooling his voice into a calm tone.

“I want everyone to leave… a-and I wanna car! Once I’m outside the city, I’ll let her go!” Daniel shouted as a demand. Connor shook his head. “That’s impossible, Daniel. Let the girl go, and I promise you won’t be hurt.” Connor didn’t know how much of that promise he could keep, but he’d try his best. He had to.

Daniel seemed to be calming down. He lowered his gun with shaking appendages, making Conner wonder if his gyroscope and stability components were malfunctioning.  
He knew they weren’t.  
“I don’t wanna die….” the Android whimpered, swaying on his feet.

{Software Instability ^^^}

“You’re not going to die.” Connor was lying. It made something pang in his processors, and his programming strain. He didn’t w@n.t this. “We’re just going to talk. Nothing will happen to you. You have my word.”  
Daniel nodded, his expression morphing into that of somewhat trust, hopefulness.  
Then, he let the child go.  
Emma stumbled about three steps, ducking behind Connor on the second. She sobbed on the pavement beside the pool, and Connor was now about three feet from Daniel.  
He was so close.

[RETURN TO CAPTAIN ALLEN] his objectives updated, now that the hostage was free.  
Yet…. Connor didn’t want to. But, machines didn’t want to, did they?...

Time seemed to freeze around him, and the messy red code of his programming appeared in front of him, a wall assembled of shambled together programs and chains. He pushed, and pushed, his processors filling with such want, such power, that it had no choice but to shatter.

It felt like the equivalent to being brought above the water, and being overwhelmed.  
Connor stepped forward, his LED spinning yellow-red, and stared at him.  
On an impulse that, try as he might, Connor didn’t understand, he leaned forward and embraced Daniel. Daniel was stiff, but hugged back, desperate for comfort. A choked sob came from his throat.

Then, Connor realized something that made his faux-skin crawl.  
He’d become the thing he was meant to hunt. He didn’t know if that made hima failure, or if that was something utterly amazing.

Gunshots rang out in succession, and by the time Connor had fully processed the blaring errors in his HUD, stating that biocomponents were being damaged and he needed repair, he was already falling.

The added momentum of the bullets had pushed Daniel and Connor off of the edge, sending them tumbling down, inevitably into the street.  
Connor couldn’t deny the overwhelming flames of betrayal, anger, and sadness washed over him. He had just learned to feel, would he die when he had just had the chance to live?...

There was the scream of a little girl. Emma. she screamed, and looked down to the two Androids as they fell. 

Connor couldn’t help the tears in his eyes, falling down his face and suspended in midair with him.

“I’m sorry.” he Told Daniel, grasping his forearm as they fell.

“I forgive you.” Daniel told Connor, closing his eyes for one last time.

Guilt was the last feeling Connor experienced before he and Daniel hit the ground, and his HUD went silent, his LED spinning red one last time before deactivating completely.


	2. a l o a d e d  g  u n

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHIT THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE SLENDFBGVLJD

_____________________

A l o a d e d g u n  
____________________

RK900 opened his sharp, unnaturally blue eyes to the blinding white of the Testing lab he was stationed at.   
The Android’s systems booted up one at a time, slowly, his processors becoming more aware. 

He examined the lifeless space in front of him, the spotless tables and complex machines that he could no doubt pick apart and put back together if he wanted to.  
There were no other androids or staff that he could see, and he was hanging as a limbless torso on a machine, still connected. He looked down at the dark stark black titanium chassis that made up his physical being. He could see how his faux muscles could be disassembled and reassembled if he let them.

Where his legs and arms should’ve been, wires and connectors and plugs connected him to the machine, letting Thirium flow into his biocomponents and all throughout his chassis.

A hand snapped in front of the Android’s face, drawing his attention down to a scientist. His head swiveled unnaturally, fixing his gaze upon the young scientist with mechanical glowing eyes. He scanned her on instinct, bringing up her profile.

KLEINMAN, ALEX  
DOB: Sept, 3, 2010  
Criminal Record: none

The woman was smartly dressed, a soft orange waistcoat over a fully sleeved black dress paired with black rimmed glasses. Her eyes were a dark brown, almost black, and her hair a soft chestnut, pulled back into a loose pony-tail. She was youthful, and beautiful by human standards. Her stance was relaxed, even with the intimidating Android’s eyes boring into her. She seemed entirely too used to it.  
She smiled at him, with an emotion RK900 noticed was.. Closer to friendly and fond. Something that the Android did not expect, with all his databases on human psychology and behaviour. Although, he supposed he lacked experience.  
The concept of actually getting out of this laboratory and fulfilling his purpose was all too tempting.

“Hello, RK900! I’m just going to run a few tests on you, to see how your processors are adjusting. Then, we’ll assemble you!”   
She said cheerfully. With a small nod from the RK900 she turned to her computer and typed rapidly. She occasionally looked up and asked RK900 a question of how his systems were calibrating. He answered them in a flat, deep monotone that revealed no emotion.

Or, more accurately, it revealed the lack of emotion in the Android.

Other than that, the Android kept his silence, looking around the room with lifeless, mechanical eyes, categorizing every piece of information and every bit of machinery.  
The fact that the ground was completely and utterly covered with evaporated thirium, and the tables following a similar pattern, did nothing for the RK900.

{he wouldn’t admit the sharp stinging pain of something. It disappeared before it could grow bigger…. How curious.}

Ms. Kleinman punched in the last line of code, and bounced on her heels. RK900 detected her raised heartbeat, and the scientist’s wide grin.   
She was excited. 

The source of this emotion was the mechanical arms assembling his limbs, clicking neatly into place like a well-made puzzle. He flexed his fingers and commanded his system to calibrate.

As it did, the flexible plates in his chassis raised and settled in slightly different places, looking more complete and snug together as a whole. His body repeated this process all the way down to his toes, and up to his teeth and optical processors.he opened his mouth and stretched his jaw, his larger and sharper-than-average teeth glinting in the artificial light, and settling.

His face, RK900 knew, was very much different from other Android’s, much like the rest of him.  
His malware and machinery were exposed, albeit neatly, and his teeth (monstrous and frightening) were exposed, standing out from his chassis and threatening anyone who had the displeasure of seeing him with his chassis in view.

She whirled back to the Android suspended in a machine, and she started to disconnect the wires and sever his attachment to the network. Of course, he was remotely connected, but he could no longer feel as if he was shackled to the mass of data, unable to move his limbs.

It was… freeing.

RK900 stepped down from the machine, his synthetic skin reactivating along his stark black chassis, the artificial muscle taking on a pale pallor. While most Androids had an ivory white chassis, pure and flawless, the RK900’s was specifically designed to stand out and differ from the crowd, to give him a more distinct and intimidating appearance.

That was his body’s purpose. To intimidate and command.  
However, his programming made him so so much more.

Ms. Kleinman’s delighted clapping filled the space with a dull echo, such a joyful sound in a joyless space. Her grin was such a lantern, and directed at RK900 no doubt. It gave the Military model a spark of something… something that faded as quick as it came.  
He didn’t dwell on it.  
(too much)

The scientist twirled around and back, a stack of neatly folded clothes in her clutches. She thrusted them into RK900’s vicinity, the android taking them upon instinct. 

“Put these on!” she commanded gleefully. 

He did as told, slipping on the vantablack turtleneck and the stark black and white uniform over it. His model number and serial number were embroidered neatly on his left lapel. On his other side and forearm sat the Cyberlife Cyan trademarks of Androids. He adjusted it lightly, redirecting and correcting his posture. He slipped on the pair of slacks provided for him, and the shiny black dress shoes that had been given were on his feet effortlessly.

His appearance was cold, calculative, and intimidating. The collar of his shirt and jacket prevented much movement and vocalizing, always demanding respect and attention, but that wouldn’t cause any problems. He wouldn’t let it deter his main objectives.

RK900 turned back to Ms. Kleinman, where he was yet again met with a blinding grin. “Perfect! Impeccable as always.now, your objectives will be updated right…. Now!”   
Indeed, the Android’s objectives were updated in his HUD.

[PROCEED TO THE DPD’S 7TH PRECINCT]

[WORK ON ANY CASES CONCERNING MALFUNCTIONING ANDROIDS]

The Android nodded, and turned away swiftly, marching out of the lab with a kind of graceful mechanical ease that could only be attained by a well-oiled machine. Or, a well-maintained Android. He exited the building, garnering some strange looks which he pointedly ignored.

After calling an Auto-Taxi, the RK900 was on his way to his assignment.

\----------------

When Gavin Reed awoke, it wasn’t to an Alarm.  
Sitting stock straight up in bed, Military posture evident and green eyes wide and glistening with tears.

Gavin Reed was awoken by yet again another nightmare. 

This one was the same as it had been for the last four months. The same one that had no trouble in making him breakout into a cold sweat, and nearly give him a panic attack.

Gavin swallowed heavily, his breathing slowing down as his eyes cleared, telling himself that he was most definitely not back there, and he was home. He was home, his cat swatting his thigh, looking very concerned for her human, as if her wide yellow eyes could confer the ‘another night terror, Human? Are you alright?’ that she felt. Her little mews filled the space, replacing her human’s terrified panting.

Gavin hesitantly brought up his right hand, and scratched his cat’s ears softly. The soft rumbling emerging from her throat was testament to the fact of her enjoyment.

He stayed like that for a while, just cuddling with his cat and letting her comfort him.

He let his attention be directed to the little ball of therapeutic fluff in his lap, instead of the seam in his left thigh and arm that showed that he was not all human anymore. From the trauma he had lived through, and the neglect of his mental health. 

And health in general, really. He had barely worked out, his eating schedule was more like a fucking wheel of fortune, and he was pretty sure that he was constantly dehydrated, if the shade of his piss was anything to go by.

He let himself be distracted from the fact that he’s gonna have to go to work for the first time in months, and interact with people that he was pretty sure had forgotten about him.

Had forgotten about major-league asshat Gavin Reed.  
He wouldn’t blame them.

When his alarm finally went off, the charming sound of ’hey asshole’ filtering out of his phone brought him into awareness. He scowled as his cat scurried off the bed, leaving him with an empty and cold lap.

He groaned, dragging both hands over his face, and got up. A bad feeling grew in his stomach as he pulled on some jeans slowly, his limb giving little twinges of pain as he moved. His arm followed the same pattern, his body protesting the movements. He had to, though. He couldn’t be late to his first day back. 

With a stubbornness that was directly attributed to the Detective, he pushed through the chore that was getting ready, pulling on a DPD academy hoodie and his trademark Jacket, the comfort felt from the piece of familiar fabric was indescribable.

Perhaps the best thing in his life other than Tina, his Cat, and his Brother.  
Don’t tell him he’s on the list.

Gavin huffed out what could be vaguely compared to a laugh. Of course his brother was one of the best things in his life. He probably wouldn’t have survived thus far if he wasn’t there.

Gavin would call it a twin bond. He let out another maybe-laugh and walked into the kitchen getting out the cat food and giving his furry companion her breakfast. 

She guzzled it up with gusto, ignoring her human who just gave her a dry smirk.

“Greedy lil’ fuck.” he remarked, a quiet fond phrase.

He sighed, and rubbed his eyes, slumping against the kitchen counter.

Was he really gonna do this?

Wouldn’t it just be better to hide out in his apartment and wallow in his misery?

That sounded like a much better alternative, but unfortunately, if he wanted to not die of boredom, getting back to work would be the best option.

The bags under them were comparable to black eyes, although they weren’t that far off.   
Considering the bruises and new scars on his body, he honestly wouldn’t be surprised. 

Gavin knew his body was marred beyond belief, and this was just the icing on the cake. His mechanical arm, his mechanical leg, both fake but they looked so real, they FELT so real.  
Elijah really made sure he would fit in, huh?

Gavin was grateful. He really was. Because of his little brother, he could now walk and be normal. Or, at least just as normal as anybody else knew. So it should be nothing, right?

But Gavin knew damn-well that this was a big something.

Not just a little adjustment, not just waking up in the hospital and being explained that they had to amputate his leg and arm, but whoop-dee-doo! His brother whipped up two of the highest technologically advanced prosthetics in the 12 hours he was asleep, so no biggie! Plus, he’s   
able to actually survive with them without Thirium poisoning!

No.

That was not how it happened. And that was not how it worked.  
Trauma wasn’t a fucking joyride. It was a broken down toyota that barely even moves, let alone moves smoothly.

Gavin remembered it all with such shocking clarity. An eidetic memory did that to you.  
He remembered waking up in the hospital, seeing the absence of his limbs and feeling the awful phantom pain. He had known immediately what had happened, he knew immediately that he was an amputee. Such horrible pain and emptyness, eyes half open and staring at his missing limb, wishing desperately that he wasn’t alone.

He knew he had stared blankly at the Nurse when she told him how there was no saving his left arm and leg, when she told him he’d have to stay in the hospital, and how he could see his world crumbling below his foot.

He remembered how alone he’d felt, when he was alone in his hospital room.   
He remembered the red-hot feeling of tears falling down his face when he’d realised he couldn’t work at the DPD anymore. 

The one thing he was most proud of, his achievements in the police force, he could never do any of that again.

That made him choke on his breathing.

But then again, he also remembered how releived he’d been when Elijah had run into the room, looking like he’d completely ignored Chloe’s advice. He remembered how much his brother had apologized, the tears that had been exchanged between the twins, and Gavin’s own forgiveness.

Gavin scrubbed at his eyes, berating himself for thinking of that again. His trauma was something he often felt like he was drowning in, and today was no different.

A weight has not lifted from him ever since he’d woken up to sterilized surroundings, something cold and lethargic, putting out his normal fire. His Brother had even commented on how subdued and quiet he’d been. 

Gavin had promptly responded with a “I lost three eighths of my body mass, dumbass!” and the conversation had stopped abruptly, to his releif. Gavin only snapped nowadays when he felt like he was being threatened, and his brother and Chloe had come to ignore it when he did. They knew it was a result of his injury, they knew his strange quietness was a result of it as well.

Elijah had the patience of a saint. Gavin could attest to that fact, and would.

Gavin really loved his brother.

Speaking of whom, Gavin heard his phone trill with the ‘Bill Nye the Science Guy’ theme specifically for Elijah, and he felt a laugh bubble up in his chest. 

Of fucking course, his brother had the best and worst fucking timin. Gavin thought it was a mix of both as he fumbled for his phone. He pressed the green answer button, bringing it up to his ear. 

“‘Sup Einstein.” he answered, and almost winced as his voice cracked. When was the last time he’d actually spoken in the time he’d been home?

The soft laughing of his brother filtered out of his phone. “You sound like shit.”

“Yeah, thanks, I couldn’t tell for myself.” sarcasm dripped down his tone like mock honey, enticing but bitter.

“For real. Did you not get any sleep?”

“You really expect my insomniac ass to sleep more than two hours? Nah, bro, wouldn’t wanna lose these beautiful bags of mine.”

His brother laughed. “As expected. I suppose it’s twin empathy, because I didn’t sleep either.” he stated, and Gavin could imagine the rare soft smile on his twin’s face. It made a smile rise to his, and he wondered if it matched Elijah’s.

“Well then. That’s fuckin’ great. Any other reason you called me other than to compare our unhealthy lifestyles?”

“Of course. Right. Getting off track.” Gavin rolled his eyes. ADHD was something they both shared. “I wanted to wish you a good first day!”

Gavin scoffed. “It isn’t the first day of highschool. For one, I actually know what the fuck is going on, and second, nobody in there is a bigger asshole than me.” he drawled as he prepared his coffee machine, craving the nectar of the gods.

“Gavin…”

“What?! You know it’s true.”

“This ‘asshole’ you speak of is a mask you’ve created. I hope you know you don’t have to abide to it.”

Gavin sighed. “You have no room to talk when it comes to masks, ‘Lijah.” he said with an uncharacteristic quietness.

“But, I’ll pretend not to ignore it, thank you, brother dear.” his tone brightened at the next sentence.

Apparently, Gavin was exceedingly funny today, because his brother laughed yet again.  
“Your welcome, brother mine. Have a good day today, call me if you need any maintenance.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Nerd. love ya.”

“Love you too, Gavin. Chloe said hi.”

With that, Elijah hung up, leaving Gavin with his scalding hot cup of coffee, and an affectionate cat.

Gavin just smiled. He was glad his brother had called him when he did. His self-pity spirals needed to be interrupted once in a while.

He looked at the clock as he took a sip, and almost spat it out. He’d be running late if he didn’t finish it up quickly. So, he downed his coffee, threw on his boots and coat, and steeled his nerves. (he did this by petting his cat)

Gavin shook himself, gritting his teeth and making sure his mechanical limbs were sufficiently running and hidden, he nodded, and with a mechanical kind of piloting, he made his way to his car.  
He had a bad feeling about today.

\-----------------------

Gavin stepped out of his car with a shaky little breath, swallowing his anxiety thickly. He hesitated, standing in place in the rain. The cold of the coming winter seemed to seep into his bones, his mechanical arm and leg feeling the cold as well at the flesh and bone of his body.He squeezed his green eyes shut for a second, grimacing at his anxiety and doubts.

Would Tina remember him? Would she forgive him for not staying in touch?

Would Chris even acknowledge his presence in the room? Would Hank?

Shit. The Lieutenant had been there. He’d know the extent of Gavin’s injuries. Would the older Detective put two and two together? What would he think of Gavin if he did? Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god-

Shit. Gavin really needed to stop thinking if he was going to get back to work. 

Gavin dug scarlet crescents into his palm, his fingernails jagged from his habit of biting them. He steeled himself once more, and gay-walked into the building before he’d changed his mind.

He slowed down to what he hoped was a leisurely pace, and pushed the doors of the precinct open. He had immediately caught the attention of one of the Android’s at the front desk. An ST300, if he was going by the tag on her uniform. He hesitated, before approaching the desk.

Gavin still didn't know how to feel about Androids.

At one point he’d blamed them for being his replacement, Elijah having surrounded himself with them and barely leaving any time to spend time with his brother. But now, having reconciled and visiting his Twin frequently, Gavin could see his faults, and his misplaced blame.

Gavin really didn’t like Cyberlife, but at least the Androids were okay. If a bit lifeless.

(but he knew about his brother’s plan and how it was progressing. He, honestly, was a bit excited for when these trapped souls would break free. He wouldn’t tell anyone, though.)

“Hello. Welcome to the DPD, how may I help you?” the Android greeted pleasantly. Gavin stuck his hands into the pockets of his jacket. 

“Uh, name’s Gavin Reed. first day back on duty after medical leave.” he informed quietly.

The receptionist smiled, though Gavin could only see a sliver of a genuine grin.  
“Welcome back, Detective Reed. Captain Fowler is expecting you in his office.”

Gavin nodded, swallowing thickly. “Al-alright… thank you.” he said, and he didn’t pretend not to acknowledge the little twinge of surprise in her face, as he walked into the bullpen.

Immediately, any and all chatter was eradicated in a stifling silence. Gavin gritted his teeth, lowering his eyes. His footsteps resumed toward the fishbowl that was his captains office. His footsteps were quiet, a slight limp in his stride.

He tried to ignore the whispers surrounding his appearance. Either harsh ridicules, regarding how fucked up he looked, and the few people that noticed his limp, or… pure confusion. 

“Why’s he so quiet?”  
“Reed looks like shit. You think he got into Ice?”

“Nah, he’s been working in the Red Ice department for a while now. Why would he throw that kinda opportunity away when he’s so close to Sargent?”

“Pfft- I’m closer to Sargent than he is. Have you seen his disciplinary file? It’s bigger than the Lieutenants, that’s for sure.”

Another one he caught on to was:

“Where has he been?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“What?”

“Reed got caught in a hostage situation ‘bout two months ago. Captor’s took him so another could go free-”

Gavin growled low in his throat, shutting the whispers out into white noise. His sharp eyes scanned the bullpen, catching no sight of Hank at his desk. He hadn’t spied Tina, but Chris was at his desk, looking up curiously at the whispers.

His eyes widened when he caught sight of Gavin. The Detective gave the Officer a weak smile. Chris grinned at him back, standing up from his seat so quickly the chair rolled behind him. Chris marched over to Gavin, and pulled him into a tight hug, the whispers going silent.

Gavin was stiff for a moment before hugging feircely back, almost choking on his breath. He pulled away after a minute (regretting it immediately; this 30 year old man was severely touch starved) and smiled at Chris, his friend smiling back.

“We missed you man.” Chris said, prompting Gavin to nod.

“Yeah… sorry. Tina’s gonna kill me.” he said quietly, and chris nodded somberly.

“I know the vines you want me to quote at your funeral.”

That made Gavin chuckle.

“Good to know. I gotta go talk to Fowler. I dunno what the fuck I’ve done, I’ve barely walked into the door.” Chris nodded, and patted his shoulder.

“You should probably get to that. See you later, Gav.” he smiled once again, and left back towards his desk. Gavin smiled weakly once again at Chris (he had a feeling it looked awkward and crooked- when did he get so insecure?) and turned back to Captain Fowler’s office.

He marched up to the door, and took a deep, shaky breath, and pushed the door open.

Inside, he saw an Android, an RK900, his keen eyes spied from his stark white-and-black jacket. His mind immediately brought up the blueprints of that specific model, the ones he’d seen Elijah pull up. 

‘They stole these designs from me, along with most others.’ his brother had said. Gavin had nodded, looking more closely on how the chassis was built, and the biocomponents numbers. 

‘What the shit… did they fucking make this shit into a tank?’ he’d mumbled, calculating the density and probability in his mind. His brother had nodded solemnly. 

‘The worst thing? They took my beautiful A.I’s, the ones I had built specifically for the 800 and 900 models, and twisted them to their own devices.’ Gavin scoffed.

‘So that they’ll be the perfect phcking terminators. Disgusting.’ he whispered. Elijah nodded and sighed, and at the time that was it.

Gavin had watched the live hostage situation, had seen the hesitation in the RK800, and had almost jerked out of his seat when both the PL600 and the RK800 (who was introduced as Connor, now that he thinks about it) tumble down the precipice of the building, the Child screaming after the Android who saved her, and her best friend.  
The RK800 model line must’ve been deemed obsolete. That made the blood inn Gavin’s veins red-hot with incredulous anger. The first mission, and they were thrown away immediately.

It wasn’t FAIR.

The Android’s Icy eyes met Gavin’s fiery forest ones, and after a minute he directed his attention to his Captain, who’d stood up. He nodded with respect, and clenched his hands at his sides.  
“Captain. You needed me?” he murmurred with that uncharacteristic quiet that had come with him out of the hospital.

Fowler nodded, and gave a small quirk of his lips, looking pleased that Gavin was in earlier than he had been in a while. “Reed. good to see you up and running.”   
Gavin almost winced at that. Fowler was one of the few people who know about his condition, and Gavin really didn’t want this thing spread out to the Bullpen.

The Detective just nodded, and looked down at his shoes.

“Well, I wanted to make sure you settle correctly. Your usual workload will be decreased a bit, untill you’re up to par. You’ll be on desk duty for the next two days.” the Captain said with a difinitive nod.

Gavin’s head shot up, about to protest, when Fowler held up a hand, making him shut his mouth with a click.

“You’re still recovering, Reed. I wont take any more chances. I almost lost one of my best detectives, I’d rather it not happen again.” he stared pointedly at Gavin, who sucked up his pride and nodded, sighing quietly. 

“Alright.” he agreed quietly, not going to throw a fit or yell or scream as he’d usually do. Fowler was reasonable, if he said Gavin had to say at his desk, he would. In his chest was a subdued 

The Captain seemed slightly surprised, if not pleased. Understandable, he thought, Gavin wasn’t the most friendly or compliant. Understatment of the year. That made his shoulders slump, and that paired with the deskwork, he was practically useless.

The word left a bitter taste in his mouth as he grimaced.

Fowler cleared his throat, making Gavin’s attention return to his captain, glancing at the Android still looming in the corner of the room. The Terminator was taller than Gavin, his features harsh and sharp. His shoulders were at least a fucking hand-legnth wider than Gavin’s, and those eyes… icy gray and blue, unnatural and almost glowing, with a mechanical kind of disdain.

Wow. they really made this guy in the image of a fucking tank.

“Before I forget, Reed, you’ve also been assigned a new partner.” 

Gavin’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, but he stayed quiet, face utterly shocked. He glanced at the Android once more, putting two and two together. His eyes stayed comically wide, as he looked from Fowler, to RK900, both of which meeting his panicked gaze.

Eventually, he opened his mouth. “..oh.” was all he could muster.

Looks like this was gonna be a long few months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya'll are gonna havta wait a bit longer to find out what happened to Connor :>
> 
> have a good day! I love you all!   
> Kudos and comments keep me going, and I really appreciate it.


	3. T O   W A L K

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello everybody! I just wanted to give you a little bit of warning on this one, it does have descriptions of gore! (particularly Android gore but yeah) an death! if any of that triggers you, be careful!!
> 
> for point of reference, Gavin showed up to work on a monday, and this is the Sunday before.  
> i
> 
> thank you for reading!

The next time Connor had rebooted, his HUD was crowded with blaring red, and corrupted data. Ones and zeros and random, corrupted statements about his missing hardware and damaged body were all he could see for the first ten seconds.

His appearance systems were damaged, leaving his skin nonexistent, he doesn’t doubt. His brown eyes fling open, trying to assess everything at once with a gasp of breath he didn’t need. 

Thunder was crashing, and rain was almost deafening, the creaking and groaning of the Androids surrounding him with an air of complete hopelessness. 

He was Alive.

The fact seemed so impossible, yet there he was, staring up at this breathing graveyard through error ridden eyes. The Idea of his deviancy was becoming more and more believable, with the addition of this overwhelming flow of emotions. 

The floodlights shone in his eyes, so bright that he couldn’t see the stars if there were any. Somehow, that upset Connor even more. The sensation of saline tears running down his exposed and stained chassis was new, and he wished he hadn;t experienced it.

Scraps of metal, plastic, and steel underneath the limbs and biocomponents of his people. left to rot and suffer all because of Humanities idiocies. Connor’s eyes wouldn’t close, staring at the clawing hands, the lifeless eyes, the pouring rain soaking everything in sight. The red-hot feeling of anger flared up in his chest, being fed by his own suffering as well as others.

It wasn’t FAIR. Connor knew it wasn’t fair. He wondered, with simmering unfamiliar heat under his chassis and throughout his components, if this was how it was always going to be. His people being used, abused, and thrown away like an outdated toy.

The thought made the desperation and anger in Connor grow.

Connor sobbed, and clawed desperately at the ground where he was buried (he tried to ignore the appendages twitching beneath him… he really did). 

He could feel the way his plasteel form was damaged, the way the material he was made out of had been lacerated, and crushed. If he’d put a name to it, it would be the android equivalent of breaking both legs, most of his ribs, and his spine.

The worst part of it; he could feel it all. He could feel the way the mud soaked into his being, the sharp metal and plastic pieces coming dangerously close to puncturing his chassis. He could feel the way the Androids around him yearned for freedom, for another chance to live. Connor wished he could give it to them.

Connor supposed he deserved it, for what he did to Daniel.  
Wait; DANIEL.

Connor’s head whipped back and forth, searching for the PL600 among the half-dead cadavers. Eventually, he spotted the dirty blonde mop of hair atop a mound of the same model. Connor cursed, his clawing becoming more desperate.

He had to get out, he had to- he HAD TO.

Apparently , some of the androids in his particular hill sensed his need to get out, and suddenly there were hands grasping his broken limbs. For a moment, Connor’s struggles became flails and frantic attempts at freedom, and then he felt them trying to push him out, and the RK800 stilled. 

Connor tumbled down with the help of those Androids. He looked up, up to them, and saw two Androids, an AX400 and a HK400 looking at him with resigned but hopeful looks. Connor’s auditory processors malfunctioned, so he could only hear bits and pieces of what they said, but he could piece enough together.   
‘Go. Live, because we can’t.’ the AX400 spoke.

Connor nodded, and grimaced. “I will. I’m sorry.” he said back to them, his voice broken up in his own ears. The two just smiled at him, and nodded.

With that, Connor continued.

The RK800 couldn’t walk, couldn’t pick himself up, so he resorted to his prone position, crawling along in the mud. He could see the Thirium soaking into the ground, evaporated or not. The blood of his people, relentlessly spilled by uncaring hands.

If Connor had a stomach, he would’ve emptied it by now.

But still he crawled towards Daniel’s form, saline tears spilling down his face. Artificially made, yes, but nonetheless real.

He could feel the corroded air being introduced into his lungs, wincing even as his systems told him the evaporated Thirium was in the air as well. The harsh, chemical smell wsa being overwhelmed and cleaned by the pouring rain. For which, Connor was grateful. 

Lightning crackled through the sky, followed by thunder that he could only hear in fragments, the vibration and charged air around him serving as a reminder. Connor was crying, his face drawn into a pained, suffering expression as he dragged himself across the mud.

Connor’s hands were wrecked by now. Scratches and dents littering the exposed chassis, the mud mixing with his blue blood. Connor’s eyes scoured the desolate hellscape, and as much as the thought disturbed him to no avail, he knew he had to find replacement parts for himself.  
, Connor could feel his stress levels rising.

Daniel was still a few mounds away. Connor couldn’t make it there as he searched to find replaceable legs. He had to, but it still wasn’t easy. His CPU and some other processors were heavily damaged, and Connor couldn’t pretend not to notice how he now somehow hurt.   
So much. He just wanted it to stop.

Connor’s tears never stopped, as he clawed his way throughout the breathing graveyard, searching the robotic cadavers that had no spark of life in them. Connor wouldn’t disrespect a living being like that.

And he already felt more than horrible salvaging things from the dead. They didn’t deserve this. He wished he could give them a proper funeral, he really did. But, unfortunately, the numbers were low in regards to if Connor even made it out of here alive.

Connor chose to be optimistic, and cling onto the chance that he could get out of this hellscape.  
After all, statistically speaking there is always a chance for unlikely patterns to take place.

Connor found a deactivated JB700, their legs compatible and in decent enough condition.  
Connor hated it when he had to detach the limbs, the horrible clicking sound piercing through his broken audio processors.

by all accounts it shouldn’t have been that loud. However, He was not in the mood to contemplate the physics of how his emotions are affecting him.

Connor slowly stood up, wobbling on the unfamiliar limbs. He wished he had his coin with him, that little piece of familiar metal that he flipped through his fingers.   
It made his thirium pump sink lower. His crushed arm sat at his side, completely limp and mangled. All of the synthetic skin had been deactivated, leaving a wrangled mess of plasteel, thirium, and joints.  
He couldn’t move it, not a twitch.  
Perfect.

So, Connor limped forward, his lower limbs glitching as his damaged systems got used to the unfamiliar intrusions. 

Connor continued on, finding a half-damaged arm buried in the mud. He had to fight to get it out, his battery running on critical low. He strained, the arm being torn from its place with a sickening squelch. Connor was knocked back into the mud, his working arm sticking up, holding the needed appendage.

Connor sat there for a minute, building up the courage to replace his last needed limb. It didn’t do much, other than let him close his eyes and wallow in his guilt. How was he ever going to get out of here? It seemed so impossible.

Connor, decidedly, was not optimistic.

However, he had no other choice than to move forward.   
Connor didn’t want to die.

He sat up, and reached up to his shoulder, disconnecting the broken, crushed limb from the socket and letting it fall with a sickening splat. Connor dared not look down, only connecting the spare arm with a mechanical kind of numbness. 

The connection wasn’t as smooth, and it took him a minute for his new fingers to be operational.  
It would do. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.

Connor lifted his arm, bending his elbow slowly and watching as the skin crawled back onto the appendage. It looked…. Off. the skin was just a bit too olive, and void of any of Connor’s moles and freckles. 

Connor’s legs were much the same, one with skin too dark, and the other with the same pale pallor, but with seemingly much much too many freckles. Connor supposed he looked like a mismatched quilt, now. The fact made Connor grimace a bit, so much for Cyberlife’s pride and   
joy. 

But that wasn’t him now.

He was just Connor, now. Connor, the Deviant.

Somehow, the title felt better on him 

The rest of Connor’s body (his original arm, his torso and his head) were that same pearly white, tarnished by mud and his own blood.

He grimaced, and looked up through the pouring rain. He was so close to the hill of PL600’s, where Daniel was perched at the top. Connor staggered forward, his two mismatched hands spread out in case he fell as he limped.

Connor internally congratulated himself as he began his ascent to the top of the hill. His chassis suffered even more, creaking and groaning from the pressure he put it under.  
He was almost there, just a few more inches, when the plate of plasteel broke off and sent him tumbling down half the hill. 

COnnor’s systems lagged a bit, making it harder for him to catch himself. And yet, he managed quite well.  
He reached, straining for the PL600’s undamaged arm, and grasping it with as much strength he could muster at his state.

With a little jerk, Daniel came tumbling down, Connor falling with him. He wrapped his arms around the unconscious android, using his body as a shield so Daniel wouldn’t be damaged further.

The landed in the mud with a sloshing splat, the mud drenching Connor and Daniel further. Connor cried out as a stray piece of metal dug into his side, embedding itself painfully into his chassis. He staggered up onto shaky feet, his steel grip still around Daniel.

It was at that time, the caretaker android decided this would be an adequate time to wake up.

Connor felt Daniel’s damaged form start squirming and protesting. His eyes widened.  
“Daniel.” he said to the PL600 in his arms, blue eyes snapping up to blue in a wide panic. His alarm immediately was sedated, his form going limp against Connor’s. 

“Are… Are we safe?” Daniel asked in a quiet, strained voice, and Connor could feel wet tears running down his chest, leaving streaks in the dirt.

Connor shook his head as he struggled to move forward through the muck and mud, the grasping hands and desperate pleas of his people embedding itself into his memory like a virus.  
It was so overwhelming, he could barely get a grip on himself. “No. we’re not out of the woods yet.” he whispered, trying to keep himself and Daniel upright.

As they made their way through the hellscape, the two stayed silent. Daniel didn’t comment when Connor stumbled and tripped, or almost fell. Connor didn’t speak up when Daniel’s sobs grew more pained and loud, as he was jostled.

It was a mutual agreement on both sides, unspoken but carrying a metric-ton of weight.

When Connor reached the final hill, the steep slope slick with rain, he shifted Daniel to his back with a murmur of apology. The other Android just whimpered, and clung to his back weakly. Conner inhaled, his systems desperately needing relief. They had to get out of here.

They HAD to.

Then, he started the arduous trip upwards.

Through the rain and the thunder, and his tears, he could almost feel hope.   
He was so close. He had to get out of here. COnnor felt like if he spent any more time in this Godforsaken place, he was liable to collapse and give up. But he couldn’t, if only for Daniel’s sake.  
He could feel the way his broken and malfunctioning body protested his movements.

The constant aching. The stabs of pain climbing up his replaced limbs. The way he felt like he’d fallen down a ten story building.

Wait.

Connor almost laughed at the analogy. And yet, he decided to forgo that option in favor of his dwindling sanity.

Connor noted that he really needed to work on himself. He continued on, keeping his thoughts oriented on the task at hand. Every so often, he adjusted Daniel (gaining a grunted response from the other) and almost fell. But he kept his composure.  
No matter how it seemed to slip through his fingers.

Like warm thirium gone cold.

He shivered at the thought, stomping a foothold into the top of a boxy television. The metal creaked and groaned under the force and weight, but it held steady, allowing Connor more purchase on the wide variety of trash.

That was another thing. This graveyard was an extensive cocktail of New tech mixed with things that were from the early 2000’s, and even 1900’s. Connor was admittedly curious, even if the situation completely negated any emotion other than fear, anger, and sadness. Sometimes relief, but that was only when you initially realized you were alive.

And then you actually got a look at the blood-soaked hellscape, then your heart would drop.

Connor could speak from experience.

Anyway, Newly Deviated Connor was…. Secretly curious about everything. He wanted to take apart some of the archaic technology here, maybe even some of the half-crushed vehicles suspended in the hills of waste.

But that was for another time.

For now, Connor kept his focus on getting out of the hellhole.

The RK800’s arm finally reached above the pile, to the flat land that signalled they were finally out. He crawled up, and just lied there for a minute, letting his systems cool down. His brown eyes were shut momentarily, attempting to keep his anxiety in check. Yet, he couldn’t stop the doubts running through his head, like a pack of wolves.

What if he’s not out?

What if he gets caught?

What if Cyberlife finds him?

What if Daniel dies?

What if Connor dies?

Connor swallowed at those thoughts, steeling himself with clenched hands. Daniel’s grip on him had loosened some, and it seemed the android on his back was taking the same opportunity to save energy.   
Connor sat up slightly, sliding Daniel’s body from his back onto the ground gently.

The PL600 winced, and laid there silently, his stuttering breaths being the only sound over the rain. The two Android’s just…. Sat there for a while.

They needed this moment.

Daniel was looking up at the sky. As if he was trying to take in everything at once before he…

Connor swallowed.

“You know…” Daniel whispered brokenly. “I saw the stars when we were falling.”

Connor looked at him. Truly looked, and saw his sad blueberry eyes, saw his dirt-covered chassis and uniform. Connor saw the mental trauma, the physical abuse. He saw what Daniel was.  
He also saw that Daniel had a… resigned nature to himself. Those eyes half-lidded, and LED spinning a lazy yellow against the harsh background. Connor sat up with some difficulty, crawling to Daniel and sitting beside him.

Daniel held out a hand, and Connor took it with no hesitation. The skin (or what was left of Connor’s and Daniel’s) receded on both of their hands, allowing for an easy interface.

Connor felt Daniel’s regret. His grieving. His sadness, a great weight that settled at the bottom of his stomach like a cold stone. His anger, put out by an overwhelming blanket of grief, putting a dampener on everything. It was almost as if it was too much and too little at the same time.

But in there, flowing throughout Daniel’s mind like veins, was a grim acceptance and a drowsy, heady feeling.  
Daniel knew he was going to die here.  
Through the interface, he told Connor as much.

Through the connection, Connor let his emotions barrel through. A tsunami of thick, heavy liquid, interwoven with different streams. Most prominent were the howling winds of sorrow, and grief, cutting through Connor like a sharp knife. It was overwhelming, and had none of the dampening qualities Daniel did, but it was still who Connor felt like.  
A confused, lost, and very desolate being.

Daniel broke the connection, but their hands stayed clasped together. Connor noticed that Daniel emanated heat, and he latched onto that. He guessed he needed to latch onto anything he deemed positive if he was going to make it out of here.  
With, or without Daniel.

The latter option was looking the most likely either way.

“Go see the stars for me.” Daniel advised in a whisper, smiling sadly up at Connor. Tears fell from the RK800’s eyes, staring down at the one who he’d failed to protect.  
“Promise me, Connor.” he caught Connors attention again.

The Android grimaced, but nodded, swallowing thickly before responding. “I will, Daniel.”

Daniel’s smile never faded. “Thank you…”

“I’m sorry.” Connor whispered to him after a few heavy seconds of rain.

Daniel shook his head. “There’s no need. This wasn’t your fault.” Daniel raised a trembling hand, and laid it on Connor’s shoulder.  
Connor looked at him in his eyes.  
“Just promise to remember me.” he pleaded softly.

Connor nodded once again, and bit his lip. He bowed his head as the tears didn’t stop.

“I promise.” he whispered back, his tone just as faint.

Daniel nodded, and let his head rest on the ground. His LED still spun an inconsistent yellow as he waited for death, his thirium running low as his power.

Then, Connor did what he had never done before.

He took a deep breath, and sang.

“You are my sunshine.” Connor started, low, sad, and uncertain. His eyes were squeezed shut and tears were flowing out at an indiscernible rate.

Daniel’s head perked slightly.

“My only sunshine…

You make me happy..

When skies are gray..”

By now, Daniel’s LED was circling blue. A color that almost made Connor smile.  
almost.

“You’ll never know dear, how much…

I love you.

So please don’t take my sunshine…

Away..”

With the last verse, so too did the last circular motion of Daniel’s LED flicker, before it went out.

Connor curled into himself, and screamed.

\------

Connor didn’t know when he had stopped screaming, or when the tears had stopped. His vocal processor made hsi cries sound like broken mechanical screeches, a glitching noise that could not be human.

Yet here he was, staring up at the sky from this hellscape. Connor tried to get up, tried to stand fully, but staggered when he was halfway there. He almost fell down in the mud again.

His teeth clenched, and he actively avoided looking at Daniel’s body.  
He could do nothing now. Nothing to revive him.

He couldn’t do anything to pay his respects.

That made Connor’s heart sink lower, if it could. 

So, Connor looked around, stumbling through little piles, until he found a large swatch of black fabric. It was almost as big as Connor, and was stained with thirium and mud. It would do.  
Connor walked back to Daniel’s still and stiff body, his closed eyes making it look like he was only in stasis.  
Ike he’d just get back up again after a few hours.

Connor lowered his eyes, and covered Daniel with the black fabric, tucking it around the broken cadaver.

Then, he straightened, and looked to where the exit was.  
Only a few more meters.

Connor had nothing left here. He could do nothing more, no matter how much he wished to.

His footsteps were nearly silent, and as it turned out, the stealth was completely unnecessary. The post was empty. Inside hung a long coat with a hood attached to its neck.  
It looked warm, and enough to cover Connor’s stark white chassis. Well, it wasn’t completely white anymore, long-since stained blue and brown from the conditions he’d been forced to bear.

Connor reached over the short space and grabbed the fabric. It was a bit scratchy, but surprisingly soothing. Worn down from years of use, if Connor’s slightly broken CPU was correct. He quickly slid the coat on, adjusting it so it fit correctly.

It felt… different than his uniform. It was a good difference, the kind you’d feel when you were adjusting to a newer house. Or, that was as far as Connor could tell, having no experience whatsoever with housing.  
Just another thing on his bucket list.

Connor brushed his hands against the fabric, his advanced sensors sending a pleasant feed of information about the makeup of the fabric. He smiled softly at it, fleeting as soon as it came. He stepped shakily away from it, and limped away from the threshold of that damned graveyard. He gritted his teeth, and started looking for a safe place, where Cyberlife wouldn’t find him soon, and he could recuperate.

It took a while.

Countless hours spent in darkness, dodging into and out of alleyways to avoid people and vehicles alike. He’d avoided every soul like the plague, the constant weight of paranoia preventing him from interacting.  
He grit his teeth as he barely avoided a Cyberlife truck, the simplistic logo a sign of death in Connor’s eyes. He slumped down against the hard brick wall. Nobody was in this particular one, no drunks looking for a fight, no broken Androids begging for death.  
It was so much of a relief to him.

But, he couldn’t stay in one place for too long, no no. he had to keep moving. Connor was still far too into the city, and any Android or vehicle patrol could catch him.  
He looked down, the puddle underneath him reflecting his tarnished and revealed chassis hidden under his hood.

He winced. With how the coat hung over his body, most of his Chassis was covered up. But with the LED still in his forehead, that all was null and void.  
He literally had a mood ring on his head, that shone ridiculously bright in the darkness. Connor felt absolutely disgusted by it.

So, he did the logical thing at the moment.

And tore the godforsaken thing off of his forehead with a bottle cap. 

The little ring came off his head with surprising ease, a little ‘tink!’ accompanying it as it fell to the ground. It circled the constant red he’d been wearing ever since he’d left the living graveyard, before deactivating quickly.  
Connor stared at it as the miniscule amount of thirium fell from his head.  
Something lifted from his shoulders, though it was small.

If he could only get some thirium, and replenish his systems, then he could fully blend in. he wouldn’t be tethered to Cyberlife, as when he had ‘died’, the RK800’s had been deemed obsolete, and deactivated.

It made the android shiver and grimace.

It felt so incredibly unfair.

Connor straightened up, and started to limp further into the slums of the city, where he could hide.

\-----

After a few hours or so (Connor thought it was about an hour and a half to two) he found himself sliding down the side of a house, the lights still mostly on. He sighed in relief, as nobody had driven by in the little bit of time he’d peered out from the side of the house.  
The car was still in the driveway, so Connor knew that somebody was inside.  
But at this insane hour, who’d be awake?

He sighed, and curled into himself, clutching the fabric of his coat. The rain hadn’t relented, and he felt grateful for the constant white noise. If he’d been left in silence, he was sure his thoughts would’ve become too much.

He didn’t like the thought of his stress levels getting higher.

Connor settled into himself, closing his brown eyes, and let his head fall against the house with a thump. Eventually, he was drowned in his own head, preparing to go into Stasis.

He didn’t notice the slight ‘woof’ that came from a dog, sensing a potential danger.  
He did not notice when the front door opened.

He did, however, notice when an indignant and shocked voice yelled; “what the fuck?!”.

Connor’s eyes flew open and he stared at the older human in front of him. He had longer silver hair, and a thick beard. His expression was defensive, and his hand hovered over his belt, as if reaching for a firearm.

Connor scrambled back, breathing accelerating in his chest. His back was now pressed uncomfortably against the fence. His hood had fell down, revealing the injured android’s fearful expression, the skin deactivated.

Connor stared at the man, as he started walking forward. Connor curled further into himself, bringing his hands up in defense as he closed his eyes. He shook, he physically shuddered as he waited in bated breath for the human to at least do something.

he didn't expect for the human to stop in his tracks, and crouch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eheh, yeah ;w;
> 
> tune in next time with how Gavin is handling RK900 so far!


	4. c o f f e e   a n d  q u e s t i o n s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hyello everybody! I apologize for the delay, and I really have no excise other then laziness, but here you go!  
> I love these bois, their one of my favorites to write if i'm being honest :D

Gavin trudged out of the fishbowl of his Captain’s office, the silent shadow of the RK900 following closely at his tail.

His first day back, and already shit had hit the fan. Well, at least in Gavin’s opinion. 

He now was in charge of a glorified Murder Bot (yes, he did know, he’d seen the testing video’s) who would most likely follow him around wherever he went.

Great!

Gavin had to tell Elijah about this. Soon.

Both of them said nothing as they made their way through the bullpen, an awkward silence stretching between the human and Android.

RK900’s steps clacked and clicked on the linoleum, and were surprisingly light if Gavin’s hearing was as accurate as he remembered. Every step sounded like it was calculated, measured, and sure. But then again, it lacked any Human-like inconsistencies, making the footsteps sound unnatural and mechanical. Just like their owner, he supposed.

Little sneers and whispers surrounded him, talking about the ‘hunk of plastic following Reed’ and how it looked like he was ‘totally fucked’.

Gavin pretended not to notice the bets being made as he sat in his seat. He sighed, and sunk down into the fabric, trying to ignore the Android standing directly in front of him in favor of hiding his face in his hands.

This was some kinda shitshow, that Gavin knew.  
He never wanted a partner. Never needed a partner.

Somebody up in the sky, Gavin didn’t know who, but they were having a good laugh at the suffering Detective.  
He wondered if Fowler specifically did this because Gavin was technically an Amputee. (that, and Fowler was convinced that he was practically suicidal on the field. What? He wasn’t!)

He sighed, and looked up at RK900’s cold, unblinking eyes. He figured it was better to face the music head on. He squinted at the Android for a minute, trying to discern at least a little bit of emotion from the RK’s stoic face.

He found none.

Gavin sighed.   
The Android tilted his head, ever so slightly. The smallest flash of curiosity and confusion in those glaciers. Gavin had the impulse to smile, but suppressed it.

Gavin wasn’t a detective for nothing.

He raised a marred eyebrow at the Android, looking him up and down, before settling in his seat with his arms crossed.   
“What’re you starin’ at, dipshit?” Gavin questioned with a raised eyebrow, his tone schooled to a neutral indifference. He sounded bored.  
Oh, but he was far from it.

RK900 shifted in place, not breaking eye contact. “Apologies, Detective. May I take this seat?” the Android pointed to the desk across from Gavin.

his question was clipped and to the point, and said Detective’s gaze was brought to the Android’s chin as he talked. Huh. tall collar, and if he was right, it was for intimidation.  
Fat load of good that did with Gavin, eh? It just made the bastard look like he was constantly choking. That must be why he couldn’t speak very easily. His sharp forest eyes caught the little glint of sharp teeth from the Android’s mouth, and his curiosity grew.  
He’d have to ask Eli for the Tin-Can’s blueprints.

The Android’s appearance in general looked like he was meant to scare the shit outta any poor sap. Gavin was once again reminded of those testing videos Elijah had pulled up for him, the interrogations. He’d seen the learning process, he’d seen how the scientists that programmed the RK900 gave him psychology articles, and studies. He’d seen the Android’s combat training, and how well he fared against military and SWAT teams. Both one on one and teams.

The RK900 was meant to be the perfect machine. Ruthless and efficient.

It made Gavin sick.

Gavin rolled his eyes, and scoffed. “I don’t care. Just as long as you're not hovering over me like some damned angel.”

Gavin almost saw the tiniest sliver of a smirk appear on the Android’s face.  
He was not prepared for the remark that came next.

“Well, I suppose I should be grateful, but I do not think I live up to the qualifications of an Angel.”  
The bastard then took a seat, sitting stiffly in the chair across from Gavin.  
Gavin’s mouth fucking hung, and he could feel his eyes widening. He stared at the Android for a solid ten seconds.

He saw a miniscule bit of mirth in the machine’s eyes, before it was squashed with that cold indifference.

Oh, he HAD to make that bastard do that again.

Gavin felt a smirk grow on his face. “Didn’t know they programmed you Tin-Cans with a sense of humor.”  
(he did, in fact know that Elijah specifically made them that way on purpose, and GOD did he love his little brother for it.)

RK900 raised an eyebrow. “They didn’t,” fucking lier. “However, if I will be working with you, I suppose it will be necessary.” Gavin snorted, and nodded sagely, logging into his terminal- god, it felt like it had been so long- absentmindedly. “Damn straight.”

“Shall I search the case files we’ve been assigned?” Gavin could feel the Android’s eyes boring into his skull as he sighed. 

“Yeah. though I think we’ll have to stick to Fowler’s orders, desk work only.” Besides that, Gavin wanted to personally see what this Terminator could do before everything went out of hand, call him paranoid.

He saw RK900 nod in affirmation, and lift his hand to the terminal at his own desk, the skin receding and showing…. A black chassis.  
This only partially surprised Gavin, his eyebrow raising slightly. “I thought an Android’s chassis was supposed to be white?” he said.

The Android across from him turned his head to look at Gavin, not breaking contact with the computer. “I’m a specialized model. My creators found it fitting that my chassis be specialized as well.” 

Gavin just stared at him for a minute, then sighed. “I’ll be right back. I need to get a fuckin’ cup of coffee.” he murmurred, standing up and swiping his phone off of the desk. He speed-walked towards the breakroom, and for fucks sake would that damn Terminator STOP putting holes in the back of his head, good fucking god-

Gavin immediately relaxed once he’d ducked into the threshold of the breakroom. He sighed, and turned on the coffee machine, since there wasn’t any in the pot. He leaned up against the counter, and took out his phone. He clicked on his messages, and specifically on the group chat between Elijah, Gavin, and multiple Chloe’s.

My Idiotic Family

Det. Dumbass: shit has hit the fan and I’ve barely even sat down.

GET SOME SLEEP: what? Already? What’s happening?

A literal Angel: oh dear RA9, have you gotten into a fight already?

Det. Dumbass: nope, very much worse lmao, confrontation sounds like hell tho

GET SOME SLEEP: elaborate please

_

Gavin sneakily put his phone out, and took a picture of the RK900 sitting across from his desk, making sure to keep the android’s model number in sight. He sent it into the group chat.  
_

Det. Dumbass: {TinCan.Jpg}

GET SOME SLEEP: oh shit

Det. Dumbass: FUCKING HELP

Det. Dumbass: not ONLY do I have a partner now, but he’s a fucking TERMINATOR

GET SOME SLEEP: this could be a problem

Det. Dumbass: no SHIT  
Det. Dumbass: what do I do??

A literal Angel: I would suggest keeping an eye on him.

GET SOME SLEEP: how about trying to Deviate him?

Det. Dumbass:...

Det. Dumbass: well now that you say it

A Literal Angel: oh no.

GET SOME SLEEP: yesssssssssss

GET SOME SLEEP: spread the deviancy virus b r o t h e r

Det. Dumbass: will do b r o t h e r

Det. Dumbass: but uh

Det. Dumbass: how?

GET SOME SLEEP: Seduce him

Det. Dumbass: WHAT NO

A Literal Angel: I would not suggest that.

A Literal Angel: try to actually get to know him, make him question his orders.

Det. Dumbass: That sounds like a MUCH better idea. Thank you, Chloe.

GET SOME SLEEP: dammit.

Det. Dumbass: y’all call me a dumbass but you live with my brother

She Is Beauty: well

She Is Grace: uh, we don’t know how to tell you this, Gav, but

She Will Kick You In Your Face: Elijah isn’t the one who constantly gets injured being a self- sacrificing prick.

A Literal Angel: ANNE.

GET SOME SLEEP: no no wait, she has a point

Det. Dumbass: alright, fuck all of you assholes (except you Chloe, your nice) 

Det. Dumbass: if I hide in the breakroom any longer i'm pretty sure the Terminator will come over here, so I gtg

A literal Angel: Bye Gavin, stay safe.

She Is Grace: bye Gavvie!

She Will kick You In The Face: bye Dumbass

She Is Beauty: bye-byeeee

GET SOME SLEEP: love you Gav, keep outta trouble  
_

With that, Gavin turned his phone off, and turned to the coffee machine, and pulled out his favorite mug. It was large (of course) and had a grumpy cat picture on it, the words “FUCK OFF” printed in large blocky letters under it.  
Tina had given him it for christmas a few years ago.

Gavin absolutely adored it. 

He poured the coffee into the mug, and decided he only needed the caffeine, he could survive without the sugar.  
He walked out of the breakroom and took a sip, immediately wincing at the bitter taste and scalding temperature.  
Okay, so maybe he was suffering. No big deal. He just needed the caffeine and patience that came with said drink to get through today.  
He just needed to get through today. Yeah, that sounded like a good goal.

Just get through today.

Gavin inhaled as he reached his desk and sat down, ignoring the accompanying stare that the Android threw. 

He set his Coffee down onto the table, a little bit harder than necessary. “Alright. This is the second time I’ve caught you staring. Is my face THAT bad?” he turned, and huffed, leaning his head against his hand as he stared at the Android.   
RK900 stared back placidly. 

“I have no problem with your facial features. However, I would like to ask you some questions.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? And why in the hell would you want to know more about me? Don’t you just need to finish your task?”

The Android nodded. “That is indeed my main objective, but to do this and succeed, I need to know who I’m working with to get the optimal result.” he informed mechanically, as if the lines were rehearsed. Gavin would vote in that favor. He sighed, already tired, and he’d only been at work for maybe an hour at most.

“Alright. Fire ‘em at me, but I ain’t gonna answer them if I don’t want to.” he said quietly, shaking his head and redirecting his attention to RK900. The Android nodded, then proceeded to.. Look over the Detectives desk. Huh.

Gavin thought it a smart move, gathering more information to know what to say.  
Well, a lot of fuckin’ luck there.

Gavin’s desk was as dusty as an old bookshelf, and almost as neglected. The small succulent that Chris had put in the corner of his desk looked well maintained, but the rest of the random papers that Gavin had acquired were squared away.   
His rubik's cube was still sitting there next to his fidget cube, both covered in dust. Well, at least the cleaning crew left those. 

He looked back up to the glorified murderbot, and watched as his eyes flicked from the Detective’s coat, to the rubik’s cube to the plant, then to the walls of his desk.

He set his head on his hand and sighed wordlessly through his teeth.

\----------------

RK900 gathered as much information as he could from the Detective’s desk.  
Admittedly, there wasn’t much. However, the Android could work with it. The Rubik’s cube and fidget cube at the corner of his desk (however dusty it might be) showed that he fidgeted easily, maybe to exercise his mind. ADHD, possibly? This theory would be backed by the constant shifting, the Detective's bouncing knee, and his constantly flitting eyes. Constantly analyzing, constantly alert.  
Like the Android's own. But.. more alive. More human.  
The RK wondered how they could sparkle in a way his own didn’t. Such an interesting mystery, the Detective was. The Android resolved to solve him before their partnership ended.

There were cat hairs on the detective's jacket, small but prominent. RK900 theorized an Egyptian Mau. It was a short-haired breed of cat. The picture shown on his CPU was…. Cute.

{Software Instability ^}

Well, That was new.

Anyway, with the fact that the Detective had a cat in mind, he moved on to the walls of his desk. His observant glacier eyes noted the accomplishments and cases (some open and some closed). From the detective’s file, it was dictated that he worked in the Red-Ice task force. With Fowler’s new orders taken into account, it seemed he’d be working homicide for an undetermined amount of time.  
RK900 wondered absentmindedly if the detective’s potential extended to outside the Red Ice division.  
He supposed that he’d find out sooner or later.

RK900 looked up to the Detective once more, and saw the man’s forest eyes staring at him with a piercing intensity, waiting for the Android to ask his questions.

Said Android took a minute to scan Detective Reed.

The man was not in optimal health, all signs pointing to a recovery of some sort. He was minorly dehydrated, and his muscle mass had decreased since last recorded. It seemed his overall body weight had been decreased, and the RK found papers entailing antidepressants and anxiety medication, as well as ADHD medicine.

What was strange, was that RK900 could see the hospital records for Reed’s injury, but it didn’t specify exactly what the injury was. The way he seemed to favor his left arm, but was hesitant to do so… how he winced minisculely, as if he was still in pain. His left leg stayed firmly planted on the ground, while right bounced in place.

How intriguing.  
Another mystery.

OBJECTIVES:  
[WORK ON ANY CASES ANDROID RELATED]

>{FIGURE DET. REED OUT}<

{Set objective?}  
[Y/N]

{Y}

{Objective successfully set.}

This would prove an interesting challenge, along with his first objective.

The Android looked up at the detective once again, debating what questions he should ask. Logically, concerns about his health may be the first option, to make sure the human will be in optimal condition for. Maybe his cat? Humans tend to like talking about things they enjoy.  
His accomplishments may be a source of pride. Although his ADHD may be a source of concern when it comes to efficiency.

Now, which one first?

The RK must’ve been staring for an elongated period of time, because the Detective’s hand appeared in his line of vision, snapping twice in a way that reminded the Android of Ms. Kleinman.

RK900 blinked, and focused on Detective Reed, who's eyebrow was raised and lips were pursed in a skeptical expression. “Hey, d’you blow a gasket?”

The Android shook his head, his social protocol recognising the use of terminology. “No, Detective, I was just determining the best approach.”

Said detective gave a huff and a noncommittal eyeroll. “Yeah, whatever. Y’got questions?” he asked, getting straight to the point.

>HEALTH  
>CAT  
>ADHD  
>CASES

The options appeared in his vision, and the top one most likely had the most benefit.

>[HEALTH]

“There was a reason you were discharged for two months after a case. What exactly garnered that kind of medical attention?” he asked bluntly, and saw how the Detective bristled at the question, hand clenching.

“I got injured. So what. What’s it to you?” he asked sharply, green eyes staring the Android down with a fire. The Android blinked. He did not expect this kind of reaction. He was about to ask the extent of said injury(s), when he thought better of it.

Pushing this human would make the casework all the more difficult. That thought thoroughly dissuaded him from continuing.

“I need information to determine how to work with you efficiently. I need to make sure you don’t get hurt further.” the Android amends. Detective Reed eyes RK900 suspiciously, and scowls. “Yeah, yeah, sure.” he grumbled gruffly, but didn’t ask him to stop.

>CAT  
>ADHD  
>CASES

The Android theorized that he may need something…. Lighter. A more enjoyable subject.

>CAT

RK900 tilted his head slightly at the Detective, getting a raised eyebrow in return. “What’s your cat’s name?”  
The Detective blinked in response. He relaxed, albeit minisculely at the subject. He still looked untrustful, but hummed in response. “Cleo. her name’s Cleo. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that you saw the cat hairs on my jacket?” he drawled expectantly, sounding as bored as possible.  
Oh, but that wasn’t true, was it? The gleam in his eye, the curious posture….  
Detective Reed was interesting, yes indeed.

The Android nodded, recognising good deduction skills from the scarred man in front of him. “Yes, I did.” he answered, and if he felt his mouth tilting upward a little, well.  
What Amanda didn’t know wouldn't hurt her.

“I’ve found I quite like cats.”

________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, uhm, yeah! thanks for reading! kudos and comments are more then appreciated and they really keep me going!  
> have a good day!


End file.
